


Sticks and Stones

by Skrigget



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Claustrophobia, Dark fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt!Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Lovers, M/M, Other, Panic Attacks, Protectiveness, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Sad, hurt!Isaac, sticks and stones may break my bones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skrigget/pseuds/Skrigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>,,Do you think they’ll ever find us?” Stiles’ voice says with a crack. He’s lying on his side, skin paler than ever before, blood dried and eyes glassy. </p><p>,,Yes,” Isaac says as he has so many countless times before, but for every time his voice gets more and more hallow and empty.</p><p>He wants to promise Stiles that everything will be alright, that they’ll come home to his father, to Scott, to Allison and Lydia and everyone but Isaac can’t do that anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticks and Stones

A fist hits him hard in the stomach and Stiles stackers backwards. Somewhere he can hear Isaac howl and he manages a small smile tugging in the corner of his bruised and ruined lips.

 

,,Don’t worry wolf boy,” the owner of the proud fist says. ,,We’ll be coming for you soon too.”

 

Stiles feels a sea of ice in his stomach at those words and he wants to vomit but he has nothing in his stomach to actual throw up. So all he can do is slide lifelessly down the hard wall behind him and burry his forehead against his shaking knees.

 

,,Stiles? Stiles!”

 

It takes all his willpower to actually open his eyes and turn his head to the right to meet Isaac’s panicked eyes.

 

,,I’m okay,” he mumbles although he can taste the salty blood in his mouth and knows his lip is probably bleeding pretty hard, judging by the pounding pain in it.

 

Isaac grabs the bars with both hands and winches in pain. Stiles furrows his eyebrows.

 

,,Isaac, let go – “

 

,,Maybe I can – “

 

,,No! Let go!”

 

It’s a shout as much as it’s a plead and Isaac makes this strangled sound like he’s choking on his own tears and flees back from the bars. Stiles is staring at him with hard, brown eyes, swimming in pain but still determined.

 

,,Don’t do that,” he tells the werewolf sharply without taking his eyes off him. Isaac is breathing heavily and his hands are shaking in his lap. ,,Isaac?”

 

,,Stiles, maybe if I could – “

 

,,No!” Stiles shouts, voice so full of panic and pain it drives Isaac insane. ,,It hurts you, Isaac, don’t touch them.”

 

,,It’s not so bad,” the werewolf lies and tries to curl his hands into fists to stop them from shaking too hard, but Stiles looks down at them and get this big, suffocating lump in his throat.

 

,,Liar,” he whispers and looks away, finally. ,,Please don’t.”

 

Isaac takes a deep breath and looks at the human on the other side of the bars in the cell next to his. His lip is broken – again – and colored red by blood. He has nasty cuts and bruises all over his skin and in his hair is this leakage of dried blood. His fingers are trembling and he always has his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed. Isaac hurts too of course but he’s supernatural and he can heal (even if it does takes longer than usual) but Stiles – Stiles is a fragile human and still they beat him with fists and sticks and stones and what else and Isaac wants to scream and scream until there’s no air in his lung and his throat is bleeding. He’s tried howling for his pack but every time one of his captures comes rushing down and hits him with the shaft of a pistol or something. Then he blacks out, last thing he hears is Stiles screaming his name over and over again.

 

,,Don’t fall asleep,” Isaac whispers, back against the wall, as close to the bars as he can get without actually touching them. Stiles opens his eyes and looks at the wolf with a silent smile on his lips smeared with his own blood, everything a crimson red color.

 

,,Why? You going to miss me, Lahey?” he asks in a last attempt at being his usual self. And Isaac’s laughs and it hurts in his chest but he can’t stop. And somehow the laughter turns into a sob and then another one and another but he quickly swallows them down and resumes to his normal, tear-free self.

 

Stiles looks worried, but he always looks worried these days. ,,Isaac,” he says, voice nothing more than a whisper.

 

,,I’m okay,” Isaac says and smirks at Stiles who rolls his eyes before closing them again. And he looks so damn tired that Isaac can’t bring himself to beg him to stay awake again. Instead he watches as the other boy leans against the – to him harmless – bars. Isaac very carefully lifts his hands and moves it forward. He can get it in-between the bars without touching them if he’s careful. He can reach towards Stiles and actually feel his hair beneath his fingers. He can run his fingers down his nose and he can touch his lips and then he’s crying again. He moves back from the boy, scrambles all the way to the other side of the cell and hopes that Stiles can’t hear him. He tries to keep the sobs in, he really does, but they crawl from his throat and fly into the air around him like birds, biting and scratching and he shuts his eyes tight to stop the steady flow of tears. And it doesn’t help so eventually he lets his body hit the cold floor beneath him and hopes that sleep will bring him some much needed rest.

 

It doesn’t.

 

When he jolts awake and hits his head against the wall he sees Stiles looking at him with eyes half amused and half worried. He gives him a calming smile and moves towards the boy. But in that moment they hear someone come running down the stairs and into their basement. They both still, tensed all through their broken bodies, and look from each other to the staircase.

 

Two men appear; cigars in their mouths and chains in their hands. Isaac tries to swallow but the lump is simply too big.

 

,,Hey puppy, puppy, puppy,” one of them says and the other one laughs harshly.

 

,,Stay the fuck away from him!” Stiles spits and stands up. He looks at the men with so much anger and furry and fire that it takes Isaac’s breath away for a moment. He’s just about to tell Stiles to sit the fuck down and not interrupt (because him getting beaten up is better than Stiles – way, way better) when the man with harsh laughter says:

 

,,It’s not him we’re talking to, though,” and gives Stiles this horrible smile that sends chills down Isaac's spine. The werewolf is up in a matter of seconds and growls and howls and shows his fangs and the men just laugh and look at Stiles who’s turned white a ghost.

 

The men open the cell and smirks before moving to Stiles.

 

,,Undress,” one of them says and tilts his head as if he’s admiring Stiles. The human falters back a step and looks at the men with eyes wide with horror and fear.

 

,,W-what?” he says but then Isaac growls again and if he could – if he could he would’ve ripped their throats out right there and then and not thought about it twice. But he can’t get into Stiles’ cell, he can’t do anything and never in his life has he ever felt this utterly useless.

 

,,Take. Your clothes. Off.” The man repeats slowly, like he’s talking to a child. Stiles manages to actually shake his head and stumbles back another step. But then there are hands in his hair, forcing him down on the cold, hard floor and nails scraping down his back and fingers pulling at his t-shirt and jeans and all he can hear is Isaac’s painful howl that turns into a pleading cry for the men to stop. But they don’t.

 

And the floor is cold against his naked body and his cries are bolt against the walls and his screams of pain are empty in the damp air and all the while there are hands, hands, hands all over his body and inside and god he wants to scream and scream and scream.

 

And afterwards the silence is killing him. He’s aware that Isaac is crying his name over and over again, begging for him to answer but he can’t – Stiles has never felt so hallow before in his life. He shuts his eyes close and drowns whatever words are pushing in his throat; they won’t make a difference anyway.

 

\--

 

It’s morning or so they think. They don’t actually have any concept of time, locked away in a basement where no sun or sound can reach them. Isaac is sitting in the middle of his cell, scraping at the floor with his claws and Stiles is watching him, head tilted and mouth slightly open.

 

,,It’s Monday,” the wolf boy says after a while and looks at Stiles who smiles weakly.

 

,,Do you have any idea what date it is?” he asks.

 

Isaac looks down at the many lines he’s drawn in the hard floor and hums. ,,I’d say it’s the third? Or fourth, I’m not so… Stiles? Are you –Stiles!”

 

The boy on the other side of the bars is sitting with a hand against his chest, eyes wide with pain and his hands trembling. He’s breathing in an uneven rhythm and looks like every breath he takes is painful and oh shit. Isaac jumps forwards, as close to the bars as he can get without screaming out in pain, and looks at Stiles.

 

,,What's the matter, Stiles? What happened?!”

 

,,It’s – it’s – “ the boy desperately tries to say. ,,Dad,” he finally manages to choke out. ,,Birth – day.”

 

,,Oh shit,” Isaac mumbles and stares at the boy in front of him and yet so far, far away. ,,Look at me, Stiles! Just look at me!”

 

And Stiles does, he actually does, but it doesn’t matter where he looks, he still can’t breathe. There’s no air in his cell, the walls are closing in on him, he’s trying his best to force something into his lungs that will satisfy them but without luck. And oh god he’s going to die if he doesn’t start breathing and he can’t for the love of god remember how to breathe normally. He’s choking and sobbing and still nothing.

 

,,Please, breathe for me!” Isaac’s pleading but Stiles can’t – he can’t! ,,Please, I know it’s hard but just… just count with me, yes? One… Stiles? Stiles! Please!”

 

And Stiles tries to follow Isaac’s instructions but he can’t fucking breathe and he’s going to die and oh god there’s no air and he’s so terrified and his body’s moving in panicked movements and –-

 

Suddenly hands are grabbing him by the collar and yanking him forwards so his head hits the bars hard but it doesn’t matter in the slightest because there are lips against his own. Gentle, dry lips, pressing against his. And Stiles' lip starts bleeding again and he tastes iron and cobber in his mouth and it doesn’t matter.

 

Because when Isaac pulls away ever so gently, like he’s afraid he might break Stiles, the boy can actually breathe again. And so he looks at Isaac with tears in his eyes but a careful smile on his lips and nods.

 

,,Thank you,” he whispers.

 

Isaac smiles and shrugs. His hand is still clenching Stiles' shirt and the human gently unclenches it and intertwine their fingers. Isaac’s skin brushes against the bars and he hisses in pain.

 

,,It’s okay,” Isaac says when he meets Stiles' eyes. ,,Seriously.”

 

,,Okay,” is all Stiles says.

 

And he doesn’t let go.

 

\--

 

Screams are what fills Isaac nightmares. Stiles’ screams, his own screams, screams of pain and fear and terror and panic.

 

Screams are what fills Isaac’s living hours as well. Stiles' screams, his own; pain, fear, terror, panic and out of sheer desperation.

 

,,Do you think they’ll ever find us?” Stiles’ voice says with a crack. He’s lying on his side, skin paler than ever before, blood dried and eyes glassy.

 

,,Yes,” Isaac says as he has so many countless times before, but for every time his voice gets more and more hallow and empty. And he knows Stiles can hear it too and it drives him even more insane than he already is. He wants to promise Stiles that everything will be alright, that they’ll come home to his father, to Scott, to Allison and Lydia and everyone but Isaac can’t do that anymore.

 

The first thing they crushed was their bones and then their hope. Now all they have left is the comforting thought that maybe they’ll kill them quickly.

 

\--

 

He can hardly feel the pain anymore. It doesn’t hurt the same way when they break his bones. It’s not the same pain as when they first broke him. Now it’s like even his body has given up on him. The only thing that really hurts is seeing Stiles lying defenseless as they hit him over and over again or takes his clothes off and press his face against the floor and afterwards Stiles can’t even muster a proper cry. Instead he whispers: ,,Sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me,” and Isaac can’t remember if he’s supposed to bark a laughter or howl out in pain so he does neither.

 

Sometimes he takes Stiles’ hands and takes some of the pain away but only when the human is asleep and can’t protest. Most of the time, though, their hands are still connected, fingers intertwined. And sometimes Stiles can’t breathe and Isaac kisses his lips till they are both panting for air and other times Isaac feels like he’s in his freezer again and he shouts for someone to lock him out and when he comes to his senses again Stiles is always watching, biting his lips and tears straining his cheeks.

 

And then comes the day when he’s certain he’s going to die. No one has been down to see to him or Stiles for days, no one has given them food or water or anything. They’ve been left alone to simply wither away. They’re lying in their separate cells, fingers intertwines, breathing heavily and desperately, eyes closed and bodies limp. Isaac wants to ask if Stiles is okay – if he’s alive – but he can’t get his lips to move. His body is to damn tired, his limps are too heavy, his tongue is dry and he’s not even sure if he’s alive himself to be perfectly honest.

 

When he opens his eyes for the last time in the cell he turns his head to Stiles, but all he finds is a pale, human body lying so terrifyingly still it shakes Isaac awake enough for him to say: ,,Please,” but he doesn’t know what he’s pleading for anymore. For Stiles to be alive? For himself to die? For everything to be over quickly? For it all to be a bad dream?

 

And then his eyes closes eyes again, darkness overpowers his body and he goes still.

 

\--

 

He can hear the constant sound of something beeping. He tries to block it out, to let the darkness overwhelm him again, but he can’t seem to cut off the noise, so eventually he forces his eyes open.

 

The first thing he’s confronted with is the overpowering whiteness of whatever room he’s currently located in. And then comes the smell creeping in from every corner and he drags in a deep breath and suddenly he just knows.

 

Hospital.

 

,,Isaac? Isaac! Oh my – Isaac!”

 

Hands are on his body and he turns his head towards the voices but his sight is blurry at first. Slowly, piece by piece, everything falls into place and he can see them clearly now: Allison sitting on a chair and Derek on a chair as well, Mr. Argent stands in the door opening and Erica and Boyd are smiling at him from the window frame.

 

,,What – “ he swallows hard. ,,What happened?”

 

Everything goes silent in the room and Allison looks at her dad. Mr. Argents nods and moves forwards slowly like he’s approaching a wild, scared animal. Maybe he is. And then he sits down next to his daughters and bites his lips thoughtful. He’s about to explain when everything comes crashing down and Isaac feels like he’s choking. The first clear thought he has is: where is Stiles? And then: why isn’t Scott here?

 

And then he can hardly breathe because no, no, no, no, no, no this can’t be – no! And he jolts to at sit before hands are pushing him down and soothing him with kind, worried words but he just want them to shut up because his throat is burning and his fingers are twisting and he’s never had such a hard to form actual words before.

 

Finally he croaks out: ,,Stiles! Where is – Stiles?”

 

Allison looks at her father bewildered, but Chris Argent being the ultimately calm man he is gives Isaac a look and says: ,,He’s here in the hospital as well – “

 

,,Is he alright?” Isaac practically shouts. And then silence falls over the room again, no one seemingly wants to pick up where Chris stopped. ,,Is he okay?”

 

,,Well,” Allison says slowly.

 

,,No,” is all Isaac gets out. He feels his heart beat at a million beat per seconds and he’s about to vomit or pass out or anything when Chris quickly resumes:

 

,,He’s alive, don’t worry, Isaac.”

 

And everything stops for a second, allowing Isaac to actually breathe and stop shaking like a leaf in the wind. And then he’s silent for the next information that floats – or rather chokes, in broken bits and kind of searching and unsure – from Chris’ mouth: ,,He, well, he isn’t awake yet. But of course you also just woke up so that might not mean anything.” Before Isaac can get a change to say anything Derek continues where the Hunter left off: ,,But he is rather… What those hunters did to you, you got to remember Stiles is only human. It’ll take longer for him to heal.”

 

Isaac doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react to those words so he just nods – nodding is appropriate, right? – and falls into the pillow underneath him. He closes his eyes slowly and focuses on everyone’s hushed voices and steady heartbeats. The sun breaks through the clouds and falls in through the window and Isaac can see it, even with his eyes closed, and he can’t help but smile because then he realizes: he’s out of the basement.

 

And he actually manages to fall asleep.

 

\--

 

,,Where’s Isaac?” Allison says as soon as she steps foot into Isaac’s room.

 

,,Where do you think?” Erica snorts as she follows closely after with Boyd right behind her. Allison doesn’t look at them but just sighs and closes her eyes briefly.

 

,,Should we get him?” she mumbles and turns around to walk out.

 

,,He probably won’t listen to us anyway,” Erica shrugs. Allison agrees with a silent nod and follows the two werewolves out of the building.

 

On her way out she runs into Lydia and Jackson.

 

,,Where’re you headed?” Allison asks.

 

,,Stiles’ of course,” the strawberry blonde answers and although she tries hard to sound cheerful, Allison can’t help but notice how her voice breaks just the slightest as she says her friend’s name.

 

,,I think Isaac’s in his room,” Allison says.

 

,,Isn’t he always?” Jackson says and Allison nods tiredly.

 

,,Well, I better go. Say hallo to Isaac and Scott from me,” she says and opens the door. She lingers just a second before she turns to her friends and says: ,,And Stiles,” and disappears.

 

Elsewhere in the hospital Scott returns from the cafeteria to find his usual seat next to Stiles' bed occupied by, well of course, Isaac Lahey, who seems to have fallen sleep with his head on Stiles chest, fingers curled around the human’s cold hand.

 

When he steps into the hallway again he sees Jackson and Lydia and waves his hand at them.

 

,,How is he?” Lydia asks and looks into the room.

 

,,He’s still asleep,” Scott answers unsurely without taking his eyes off Isaac’s body. Lydia and Jackson follows his gaze and the strawberry blonde sighs and leans against the wall.

 

,,He does that every day, right?” she asks.

 

,,Yeah,” Scott mumbles. ,,The first couple of days after he woke up everything was fine but then… Then he went to see Stiles and now he can’t sleep anywhere else.”

 

They’re silent for a while before Jackson says: ,,Whatever they went through, it was bad.”

 

,,Yeah,” Scott agrees again. ,,Isaac won’t talk about it, just wants to sit with Stiles and wait for him to wake up.”

 

,,Which he will!” Lydia sings and grabs her boyfriend’s hand in hers. ,,He will.”

 

\--

 

She is right.

 

Of course.

 

Lydia is always right.

 

It happens one late afternoon. Scott and Derek and Isaac are in the room. Derek and Scott are talking about something and Isaac is just sitting silently next to Stiles, hand in his, eyes fluttering closed every few second. He doesn’t listen to what Scott and Derek are talking about, just focuses on Stiles heartbeat and steady breathing. It’s the only thing that can calm him down, even if it is just a constant reminder that the boy is fast asleep.

 

And then Stiles' breathing changes just the slightest and Isaac sits up straighter and holds his hand tighter. Scott and Derek must’ve noticed too because they stop their argument and looks at the boy. Nothing happens right away. Stiles is still silent and pale and so very, very fragile and covered in bruises and scars that won’t heal the way Isaac’s did. But he’s also stirring; his hands are twisting and his eyebrows moves and –-

 

He opens his eyes slowly, lets his eyes adjust to the sharp light and the whiteness of the hospital room. Isaac bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard he can taste blood and he’s afraid he’ll start screaming soon if Stiles doesn’t –-

 

,,What,” he says in a deep, husky voice and Isaac’s lets out a deep breathe. This causes Stiles to turn his head and meet the werewolf’s blue, blue eyes. ,,Isaac,” he says and then tears are falling from his golden brown eyes and all Isaac can do is lean forwards and brush them away gently with his thumb. ,,You’re okay.”

 

,,Yeah,” Isaac whispers, tears are falling from his eyes as well. ,,So are you.”

 

,,Am I? I feel like shit.”

 

,,I know.”

 

They stare at one another without saying anything – because they don’t have to, not anymore. Isaac understands the pain and the panic in Stiles’ eyes, just as Stiles understands the terror and fear and desperation in Isaac’s.

 

,,Stiles,” Scott voices comes from behind them. ,,You’re finally awake!”

 

,,Hey, Scotty,” Stiles says and smiles widely, followed by a bright laugh when he actually sees Scott. ,,Hey.”

 

And Isaac understands his tears as well. Understands that they’re tears of joy because he’s alive and, well, and not in the basement. Tears of joy over finally seeing Scott and Derek and later also everyone else – all the people they’d given up on ever seeing again. All the people they’d accepted would either never find them or find them when it was too late. And he understands that they are tears of pain; memories from everything that happened down there, tears of confusion because how can it be over? How can anything like just suddenly… stop? And he understands that they are tears – just tears. Because words will never be enough so they cry or scream or beg or plead or bleed and that’s all they’ll ever be able to do.

 

\--

 

,,I’m worried about them,” Scott says one afternoon as he and Allison are sitting in the hospital cafeteria, drinking cold coffee.

 

,,Yeah, me too,” she mumbles. ,,Do you… Do you think they’ll ever be okay?”

 

Scott looks at her for a long time after those words and just keeps looking and looking and looking, because he doesn’t really have the heart to tell her that no, he doesn’t honestly think so.

 

But things do get better. Stiles gets better – physically – and Isaac gets go home, but still sneaks into Stiles room every day to just sit next to him, fingers intertwined. They don’t always talk, sometimes they just sit very still. They’ve spent enough hours in opposing cells to be comfortable with each other like this.

 

Isaac and Stiles could probably live a lifetime in silence if it hadn’t been for, you know, other people, pack members, a father and doctors who demands answers to biting questions.

 

Like when they ask Stiles if he is aware of what – happened to him. And Stiles freezes in his bed, eyes wide and chest stilled, like he’s not even breathing. Isaac clutches his hand hard but he knows that nothing he can do will force those terrifying, horrible images away.

 

Stiles nods slowly and looks away, down to saac’s hands. And the doctor swallows hard and asks if he wants to tell his father or if the doctors should?

 

And Stiles begs and pleads for them not to tell him anything – not to tell anyone anything! They already look at him like he’s made of glass, a porcelain doll ready to crack at any minute, and if they’re told this – this truth that he’d hoped Isaac and him could bring to the grave – then they’ll never look at him the same way.

 

The doctors look genuinely sorry, but that doesn’t change anything, now does it?

 

So the first one to know is Stiles’ dad. He doesn’t want to be in the room for that one so he waits in his bed while doctors talk to the Sheriff elsewhere. And all the while Stiles hold his breathe and digs his nails into his palms and when the door opens and the sheriff looks at him and he knows, oh god how he knows, that something has changed between them.

 

,,Son,” he says, voice breaking.

 

Isaac swallows hard and whispers: ,,I should go.”

 

To which Stiles replies: ,,Please, stay.”

 

And so he does. He stays through the sheriff’s apologizes for not finding him sooner (Stiles tells him over and over and over again that it wasn’t his fault), he stays through the sheriff breaking down and crying (Stiles can’t say anything to comfort his own father at this point) and he stays through the sheriff trying to hug his son but suddenly being unaware of where the boundaries are.

 

And afterwards Stiles cries into Isaac’s shoulder and Isaac stays through that as well.

 

Telling the others is both more and less difficult. It’s Melissa who gets the task to do so. She tells Scott first, one morning when she sits him down at the table and looks at him seriously. And then Scott assembles the rest of the pack and tells them that they should be more careful about what they say and do around Stiles from now on, should probably ask him if it’s okay to touch him or kiss his cheek because – and his voice breaks and the tears makes his vision blurry and the words get caught in his throat and he chokes on them. Finally he gets it out (,,they abused him. Sexually”) and the room goes silent, everyone staring at him, waiting for him to tell them he’s kidding, that this is some kind of sick joke –-

 

And he doesn’t.

 

So when they visit Stiles the next time they speak in even calmer voices, slowly, like they don’t think he can understand them. And they don’t hug him goodbye or gets too close and they keep asking if he’s okay and Stiles wants them to shut up, shut up, shut UP!

 

,,They’re never going to treat me the same way,” he whispers into Isaac’s knuckles when they’re all gone.

 

,,I don’t treat you the same way, can you really blame them?” the wolf boy says.

 

,,It’s different with you.”

 

And he’s right, it is different. Because Isaac was there; he saw it happening, he saw what they did to Stiles, he heard his screams and broken sobs and he tried to drown the captures' moans with his loud, painful howling.

 

He was there, he is different.

 

\--

 

At some point, after Stiles if back home with his father, they stop trying to tell Isaac not to sneak in through his window every night. They stop telling them that maybe things will be easier if they, you know, act normally and they stop pretending that they can’t see the way Stiles visibly relaxes when Isaac sits down next to him.

 

They move differently now. They speak differently now. They do everything… differently. And they do everything according to one another, like they can’t function alone any more. And they don’t even notice it. When they have the first pack meeting fully assembled after Stiles is out and about again, Stiles sits down next to Isaac on the couch so close that their legs and shoulders and arms touch and later he falls asleep with his head against Isaac’s shoulder.

 

\--

 

Things aren’t okay “just” because they’re not in the basement anymore.

 

Stiles is still terrified, he still has nightmares, he can still feel the hands and the cold floor against his cheek. And Isaac still wakes up screaming for air or Stiles and he still can’t seem to get comfortable in his own bed, prefers Stiles’ floor, actually.

 

And they are silent now. Isaac, with his confidence and his leather jacket and his smugness and his smirks and his ‘i-don’t-care-about-my-bad-reputation’-attitude is silent.

 

And Stiles, who was never, ever silent before, who was always rambling or mumbling or discussing or arguing or scheming something, who had ADD and took too much Adderall, he is silent as well.

 

People look at them differently now, but it’s like they don’t really register. Most of the time they’re just… sitting next to each other, fingers intertwined, listening to the others talking (about them) or each other’s steady heart beats.

 

Stiles still has panic attacks and wakes up with no air to breathe in and Isaac’s mouth is always there to press against his and force the panic attack away. And Isaac still has nightmares that leaves him terrified and shaking, curled into his himself in the corner of the bed and Stiles is there when he snaps back, bashes his eyes opens and finds the human looking at him, nodding, saying: ,,You’re okay.”

 

It becomes their thing: ,,You’re okay,” it’s like a mantra they say to each over and over again until they believe it or simply can tell if it’s all just a big fat lie, because what does it matter anyway?

 

\--

 

They’re back in school now and everyone seems to have calmed down around them. Sometimes Scott puts his hand on Stiles’ shoulder or Allison grabs him by the arm. Sometimes his dad leans in to give him a hug, but stops just a couple of centimeters away, uncertain and searching for something in his sons eyes, telling him to stop, but Stiles simple leans forward as well and meets his father in the embrace.

 

Isaac sits behind Stiles in every class and sometimes, when the walls start moving in on him or the air turns too thick to breathe, he can feel Isaac’s long, gentle fingers on his shoulder and he takes a deep, calming breath.

 

And so long as Isaac can see Stiles – can see that he’s okay (more or less), can see that he’s breathing, that he’s not choking down a sob, that he’s not being pressed against the cold, hard floors of the cell – then he’s okay. And if he can reach out and touch Stiles as well, that’s all he’ll ever need, really.

 

Lydia invites them to her cottage by the lake and Stiles looks at Isaac in doubt.

 

,,I think it’s a good idea,” the werewolf mumbles into his ear, when he thinks everyone is occupied with other matters (like studying Econ or buying shoes online) and Stiles nods.

 

,,You’re right,” he whispers and allows himself a second or two where he can lean his head against Isaac's shoulder.

 

\--

 

They're is divided into several cars because they can’t all fit into Lydia’s new one. Isaac and Stiles sit in the back seat while Scott and Allison are in front (Lydia, Erica, Boyd and Jackson in another). They talk about normal stuff and Stiles even laughs.

 

When the song ‘S&M' by Rihanna comes on, Stiles stills against the car seat and looks at Isaac.

 

,,Sticsk and stones,” he says.

 

,,May break my bones but chains and whips excite me,” Isaac concludes without taking his eyes off Stiles, who lets a smile tug at the corner of his mouth and nods in agreement.

 

When they arrive at the cottage Stiles is fast asleep, head on Isaac’s shoulder.

 

\--

 

It was bound to happen sooner or later so maybe Lydia’s cottage isn’t the worst place for it, Stiles thinks afterwards, when he’s curled against Isaac on the floor.

 

They’d been watching 'The Notebook' and everything had been semi normal and they’d laughed and joked and Jackson was his usual, irritating self and Erica was bitching about something and Boyd hummed in agreement, while Lydia clicked her tongue annoyed and Allison smiled innocently at Scott, so yeah, everything had been normal and Stiles, sitting with his back against the door, watching them carefully, realized how much he’d missed them – had missed this.

 

,,We’re out of wine,” Jackson had said and looked around, like it was everyone’s fault but his.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes and slowly rose from the floor. ,,I’ll get another one,” he said quickly and walked out of the room with his pack members shouting filling his ear. His actually snorted as he opened the door to the basement and walked down the first couple of stair.

 

And then before he knew what was happening he was standing in the actual, dark, cold basement surrounded by wine and suddenly everything came crashing down around him.

 

It happened all at once, not slowly or piece by piece, it wasn’t like a wind dancing in over the silent country, gently tugging at the leaves on the otherwise naked trees, it was hard and merciless and it left him terrified and shaking.

 

He remembered everything he always remembered but was able to lock away to when it was just him and Isaac, in his bed, late at night, when he could allow himself to shudder against the wolf’s shoulder.

 

Standing in the basement he was left utterly, and completely, alone. And the air was ripped from his lungs and he couldn’t breathe – he was dying. He was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. He was dying and unable to breath, he was in a basement – THE basement for all he knew – and he looked around but he couldn’t find Isaac’s reassuring blue or yellow eyes and he panicked and had he had any drop of air left inside of him, he’d used it so scream, scream and scream.

 

He managed to get to the staircase somehow and managed to scramble up the first couple of steps before he staggered down and landed on his back. He rose to his knees and hands and crawled forward, collapsing against the steps. The only thing that went through his mind was ,,I’m going to die alone” and then –-

 

\-- gentle hands were there and he heard his name repeated over and over again from a thousand different tongues and in a thousand different voices.

 

,,Stiles? Oh god are you having a panic attack?”

 

Lydia.

 

,,Scott – what do we do?”

 

Allison.

 

,,Fingers, he –he can count his fingers. Ten fingers. Stiles?”

 

Scott.

 

,,Stiles? Stiles!”

 

Isaac -–

 

\-- Oh god it was Isaac.

 

He felt familiar fingers on his upper arm and he fluttered his eyes open to find Isaac staring at him with pain in his blue orbs. He opened his mouth in an attempt at speaking his name but it turned into more gasping for air and Isaac launched forward without a second thought.

 

At first that was all it was: rough lips against rough lips, forcing Stiles to hold his breath. But then Isaac tilted his head back slightly, just enough for him to assure that Stiles was again breathing in the oxygen as he was supposed to and then he leaned back in again, and this time Stiles met his lips in what could only be categorized as a kiss.

 

It wasn’t messy or clumsy or begging or desperate. Most of all it just… was. It was a kiss and it was between Isaac and Stiles and it was simple and therefor also perfect.

 

And when they slowly parted for good Stiles wrapped his arms around Isaac and rested his forehead against his shoulder. Meanwhile Isaac rubbed his palms against his back comforting.

 

,,Thanks,” Stiles mumbled.

 

,,You’re okay.”

 

,,Yeah,” Stiles breathed. ,,So are you.”

 

,,So am I.”

 

\--

 

No one asks what had happened in the basement. Partly because they all feel bad for not coming to the conclusion that Stiles and basement equals bad idea but also because, well, they don’t think Isaac and Stiles can really provide them with a proper answer anyway.

 

So they go around their day as usual.

 

Stiles has panic attacks sometimes, at random hours and at random times. Sometimes something triggers it and sometimes - it just happens. And no matter what: Isaac is there.

 

And Isaac dozes off sometimes. When they’re eating lunch outside at their usual spot, talking to one another about the new upcoming threats coming towards Beacon Hills, he’ll look down at his orange vitamin water and he’ll simply… keep watching. Not at all intense, no, more like he’s dead to the outside world. And Scott calls his name and he doesn’t react. Allison tries and tries again and even Lydia asks if he’s alright but it it’s only when Stiles says: ,,Isaac!” that he snaps out of it and looks at the human on the other side of the bench.

 

,,Sorry,” he mumbles. ,,I guess I – sorry.”

 

,,It’s okay,” Scott shrugs and shares a quick look with Allison that Isaac pretends he doesn’t notice.

 

,,You’re okay,” Stiles whispers and lets their knees touch under the table.

 

,,Yeah,” Isaac agrees. ,,So are you.”

 

And Stiles just nods.

 

\--

 

Scott stops saying “I’m worried about you” or “are you sure we can’t do anything to help” and the sheriff stops thinking before he hugs his son and Allison starts making jokes with Isaac again and Lydia goes back to her usual self when she’s talking to Stiles and Erica and Boyd ask if Isaac wants to train with them and Derek doesn’t looks the least bit surprised when he walks in one morning to find Isaac and Stiles fast asleep on his couch so – so maybe they really are okay?

 

They are better anyway. That’s good enough, they think.

 

And they are somewhat happy at times, so that’s good.

 

Of course everything is still awful and sometimes Stiles hisses when someone grabs his arms or Isaac gets claustrophobic in a crowd and starts to wolf out but they are managing. And it’s not like dangers stop coming to Beacon Hills.

 

They still have to fight off a shit ton of stupid ass shit. But Kira is there now and she looks at Scott like’s he put the sun on sky and Malia as well. Though she has a harder time adjusting to the way the pack moves more carefully around Isaac and Stiles and sometimes she forgets and does something sudden or dangerous and all hell breaks loose.

 

But the episodes are fewer and less frightening every day so Stiles thinks he can deal with that as well.

 

One night when they are lying in Stiles bed after a fight with a pack of fairies – and who knew fairies traveled in packs? Huh – Stiles leans over and kisses Isaac’s shoulder and then bites down just the slightest but enough for the werewolf to shudder.

 

Stiles smirks and trails his tongue over the already fading bite-mark and the words slip from his tongue so easily: ,,I love you.”

 

Isaac stiffens for a second before he relaxes down on the bed again and takes a deep breath through his nose. ,,Yeah,” he says and then takes a long while before adding: ,,I love you too, you know that, right?”

 

And Stiles is not an idiot so of course he knows. He hums against Isaac’s pale skin and when the wolf boy grabs him gently by the hips and moves him so Stiles is straddling his waist he smiles up at him. Stiles rolls his eyes and even snorts before he leans down and kisses Isaac. First its gentle like all of their movements seems to be these days but then it quickens and Stiles lets his tongue push into Isaac’s mouth and the other teen moans and digs his nails into Stiles skin. And it’s a little bit of what they used to be and so much of what they’ll hopefully turn into.

 

And Stiles doesn’t care that he can’t remember how he felt about Isaac before, doesn’t care that Isaac didn’t seem to matter the way he does know, doesn’t care that he isn’t sure he’d love Isaac if it hadn’t been for the overwhelming fact that they’d shared months of each other’s screams and cries and sent and simple words, locked away in a basement. All that matters and he cares about is the feeling of Isaac kissing him down his neck, searching, asking for permission, to which Stiles just nods and bites his lips feverishly because he could never be scared of Isaac.

 

Never.


End file.
